People and livery yards

Bit of a random post this, but as seems to be he way they come a bit out of leftfield.

I don't know what it is about horse owners, that generally make us exceptionally opinionated. But, we are.  Maybe its that we feel so passionate about our horses, that if we find something that works for us, we want everyone to know that and share.  I am being generous here....

Unfortunately, I am really bad at being told what to do.  I could go into the physcology of it but basically, I'm a stubborn control freak,.  Thankfully, I like to think I am an intelligent person and I like to do my own research about pretty much everything I do.  Equally, there are a couple of people out there who's experience and research means I dont do my own (literally I can count these people on one hand)  Hence why being on a livery yard is my idea of hell!

Livery yards are an interesting place and were never ideal for me. Looking back now there are a few factors that make them very irritating.  Mainly, the people....

1) I have no interest in your opinion, unless I actually ask for it.

2) I work hard, when I get down the yard at 630pm what I want to do is spend valuable time with my horse to unwind me.  Not listen to someone gossip about someone gossiping about me, winding me up. 

3). I'm hypoglycaemic, the chances are when I get down the yard, I havent eaten since lunchtime. This doesn't make me the most tolerant or receptive of people. Funnily enough I could not eat all day and the horses will never annoy me! 

4) When it peeing down with rain apparently you can't just let your horse out to wander round the yard all day instead of being stuck in its stable 24/7 for 6 months. 

5) Actual livery where people look after your horses as if they were their own.... Or maybe they did which is a scary thought?

6) All year turnout was essential for me and my horse. 

7) How is it so many people can spend all day down there generally telling everyone else where they are going wrong.  Shouldn't they have jobs? How the hell do they afford it? 

What livery yards need (in my opinion) is strict rules.  The happiest I have been on a yard is a small very strict one, but you knew where you stood.  I was on full livery and had all year turnout, it worked brilliantly for me.  Also there were onto 3 other people on it who had long gone by the time I got there. 

Unhappiest I have been is on a massive yard, were gossip was rife. It drove me nuts and made me so unhappy.  Funnily enough though I think this is where Conor was at his happiest. Also, the owner although lovely wasn't very strict. So some people got to do somethings, others got to do other things all dependent on who was flavour of the month. Which was obviously, never going to be me as I was at work all day.

What they are good for is giving you the incentive to do something with your horse.  You kind of go along on their energy.  I would certainly never have evented Conor (nor would anyone in their right mind) if it hadn't been for the fact lots of people on the yard were doing the MK3DE.  I would never have gone.  On this note I was also the only only person who ended up going! I remember noting this irony as I loaded him to leave for MIlton Keynes in 2006.

It does take a certain amount of willpower to stay focused to compete when you are at home, with no one else loading up looking smart. This may be partly the reason I haven't for a few years.

Also, livery yards are not always for people who think outside the box.  

When Conor wouldn't load apparently the thing to do was send him to the Irish Horse Dealers..... Really? Is this actually what you would do with your own? I think probably not! After 4 years ( yes it took that long) for me to acknowledge that I couldn't, the yard owner couldn't, intelligent horsemanship couldn't. I phoned Richard Maxwell who for approx. £400 (yes you can imagine the comments about that) got Conor loading within an hour and he never not loaded again!  The best £400 I spent in my entire life. Infact, when I got Zulu and he also decided he wasn't going to get in a tin can again, I phoned Richard without even blinking.  No point in having an 8k horse and not be able to do anything with him? Make it 8.4k and the world is your oyster! 

When I purchased my Barrie Swain Holistic Treeless saddle.... Dear lord anyone would think I had just told everyone on the yard the way to ride was to sit backwards and pull on the tail. It won't last, it was a waste of money, they are not tested enough... Blah blah.  It fitted big shouldered Conor perfectly (the reason I tried it, as everything else was so restricting). Yes, you do have ride your arse off in it, there is no protection from the horses back, i can feel everything.  The saddle is now 6 years old, it looks the same as it I'd the day I purchased it and it has fitted all 3 horses from 18hh to 16hh perfectly without being adjusted and they have never had any back problems from an ill fitting saddle. I bet they can't say the same about their stubben's!

When Becky started training with the genius that is Phillipe Karl (and then passed on to me).  I cant see that their comments would have been "What an interesting man, I've read his book and his comments about how dressage as it stands is breaking horses. I'll be really interested to see how his training methods work out and the reasoning behind it" it would have been.... "have you seen Nicola riding around with her hands in the air, what does she think she is doing". 

I can't even comprehend what they would say about me looking to compete Eager barefoot...... Lol

Eager poorly foot

So since our great weekend at Beckys 10 days ago I haven't even sat on Eager's back! Which is typical.  I think and hope its just an abcess on her back foot. Being the back foot it's not always apparent she is lame. If I poultice it seems to get better and then within a day of stopping it gets worse.  Now in normal circumstances I would have already phoned my farrier to have a look and drain.  But as she is barefoot  I decided to phone the brilliant barefoot trimmer as to what to do as I had heard he didn't make a hole, but let I find its own exit.  So after waiting for him he said he thinks it is an abcess and to poultice, but the reason he doesn't drain is because he isn't allowed to... Only a UK qualified farrier is allowed to.  He is qualified in Spain but not England. 

So currently feeling a bit disenchanted and wishing I had just phoned my farrier in the first place and I wouldn't have wasted this time. Anyway doing as I am told.... Tonight. Think I will phone farrier tomorrow. 

This is the way of it :-( 

My other life as....

Funnily enough and contradicting what most people may think (generally those I work with) I do not farm, look after horses and cats full time.  I also work in an Investment Bank. Boooo I hear you say. All I can say is, if only I had the bonus's people think you have! For the record I haven't had a bonus for some years now. Equally, I accept I am not that bad off either, but trust me every penny I earn is accounted for and unfortunately also more that I don't earn. (My credit card debts have been legendary for some years now)

It wasn't a career choice, infact I don't really remember thinking about work at all.  I am afraid I did fall into the category of pretty much living in the moment.  Work was all about money for going out, drinking and generally having fun (I had given up horses by this time). I assumed I would be married by 30 with children. Again, something I didn't really think about... it was just going to happen! I was a Thatcher child, I lived in Essex, getting a job was something that happened, didn't really require too much thought!

So whilst having far too much fun at school, generally being incredibly social and misbehaving (in a good way by today's standards). I decided I was going to be a hairdresser, despite my maths teacher going apoplectic when I told her this (even if I do say myself, I was bloody good at maths) I got a job at Vidal Sassoon in London. Looking back now, despite thinking I wasnt that interested.  I was very determined to get into Sassoon's and wouldn't have gone into hairdressing at all if it meant working in a local salon!  The best or nothing really, so out of about 200 applicants I was one of the 15 juniors picked for that tranche (trust me they go through a few).  To cut a long story short I had a great time at Sassoons for about 18 months because as well as working in the salon you also got to go to the London College of Fashion one day a week.  It was a blast, very intense and I was quite good (its a good mix of technical and artistic) but fuck!!!  it was dull.  The people who worked at Sassoon live, breathe and eat hair.  Seriously....  there are more important things in life!  So shortly before qualifying I left!

There are many things in between...  I left to become a stylist, then changed to model (I was thin) and got accepted at LCF for that (best feature - hands LOL) but thankfully a friend who was a very successful model talked me out of that, worked at a fashion house ordering and calculating quantities of buttons, fabric etc to get designs into production (this was owned by an Iraqui who suddenly dissapeared, so did the company.  2 weeks later the 1st Iraq war broke out), business travel agent (to find the day I got made redundant my dad was a director), mortgage administrator (office of 50 people, 48 were woman LOL, that was fun NOT), Lloyds Stockbrokers (best job for 9 years, all through my 20's and had a great time for the best boss and great people), then finally into the Equities Floor of Investment Banking at 28. 

I have worked at only 2 more companies since that first job on the floor. i cant say that I took my job that seriously up until about 3 years ago.  It's taken me a while to work out what my talents are and to utalise them in the correct way.  It is exceptionally easy for me to coast along very efficiently in the eyes of others on about 20% brain power.  It takes a good boss and a lot of pressure to get me up to about 70% and then i am unstoppable.  Previously having worked for a great boss, who has turned into an even better friend. I switched and my new boss had massive faith in me and gave me huge responsibility. Its probably at this point i acknowledged I had a career and not just a job. Ironically, I then got my old boss back and it was a win, win! Confidence, responsibility and I had a great time. 

My current title is Head of Middle Office and Settlements, also I am Company Secretary (more by luck than judgement).  This means that at the age of 41, having left school at 16 with very ineffective GCSE's (although I did get 9 of them. Didn't bother turning up for 1 as it was sunny and I couldn't be arsed) to be a hairdresser. I am sitting on the Board of an Investment Bank. 

How the fuck did that happen?

 

Happy Birthday

As is usual at the end of March each year, David asks me what I want for my birthday. As is usual despite the fact I could quite happily spend thousands of pounds each day I usually have no idea! But, this year I decided to ask for a Bengal Cat. I really wanted a cat for the house, as much as the Bogeyes were company. It did mean you had to leave the back door open all night! Not ideal really.  So proceeded to bombard him with pictures of Bengals.  David quite firmly told me NO!  So I asked for a Hermes scarf instead and a trip to Badminton.  My birthday also happens to coincide with one of David's good friends, so birthday eve we spent a fabulous night with them at his party in the Cinnamon Club and stayed the night in my favourite hotel in Clerkenwell, The Rookery.  As, I woke up he next morning (feeling the champagne pain) planning brekko and such like, reading my birthday messages on Facebook. An email pinged in from my husband (little bizarre as he was sitting next to me)

Hello Mummy!

I am a 3 week old little Girl but I haven’t got a name yet!

What will you call me??

Happy Birthday!!

I actually think I named her Slinky Malinky there and then!

Well he still has a few surprises in him yet the old bugger! Overjoyed and within minutes was shopping for cat stuff! Which pretty much kept me entertained for the next 3 months.

When they were about 6 weeks old I went to see Slinky at BlueZapto Bengals who I cannot recommend highly enough.  Whilst it is a business, they do love their cats and it certainly isn't a factory! They only breed their queens for a year or two and they then sell them to good homes. The mum only had 3 Kittens.  Slinky who is a brown Marble, another girl who was a brown spot (looked like a cheetah was beautiful) and a blue spot boy . 

Not sure quite how the conversation came about, but she told me the boy hadnt been sold due to him having a dip inbetween the shoulder blades. (Bengals are predisposed to a ribcage not growing thing) but she said he looked fine and was growing with the others... before I knew it I said I would take him (David glaring at this point) if he seemed OK.  She said she would let me know what the vet said.

Another 5 weeks passed and by this time I had talked myself out of taking him.  How much heartache and dysfunctional animals do I need?   Zulu wasn't getting any better with steroids and it was now all now a matter of how quickly he would deteriorate. Conor hobbled and the bogeyes weren't exactly a picture of prime specimens.  My mental state about Zulu wasnt brilliant, did I really need this?

About a week before we were due to get Slinky.  David said BlueZapto had sent an email saying we could pick up Slinky next Friday and did we want the boy as well?  He said they were always together and the vet had confirmed there was nothing wrong with him, he was growing fine and the dip was dissapearing. David had already said yes before he had told me :-)   (Yet more evidence if this love thing) So, we were taking delivery of not 1 Bengal but 2.  No. 2 Grizzly McBlue.
  

 

Picture of Slinky and Grizzly a few minutes after being in their new home. 

The cats have been nothing but utter joy from the moment they arrived.  They certainly saw me through one of my darker periods this year. There will be lots more posts about he Cheeky Tyksters.

p.s. I didnt get the Hermes Scarf, but did go to Badminton :-)

The Bogeyes

After moving Conor and Bess into Rose Lawn in 2007, the next thing to come were the cats.  They were to be stable cats as David (then, how I laugh) didn't like cats.  Very easily done, you look at the back of any horse magazine and there is always a charity looking for outside homes for Feral cats.  So I phoned and the woman said she had just had a call from a lady who was looking for a home for 3 feral cats that had been living under the decking in her garden.  She was moving and had managed to catch them and get them to a vet to be neutered.  I took delivery the next day!
I am still in contact with 'Cat Lady' as she is on my phone.  She is completely mental and hilarious and from the minute we met I liked her.  She loved me, as I was giving a home to the Bogeyes! She told me this a lot...  So she turned up in the pitch black in the middle of December 2007 with 3 jet black inter-related cats with the generic name of The Bogeyes, 2 litter trays and a bar of chocolate.
I put them in the 1m sq toilet in the barn and this is where they stayed for about a week.  Bless them they always pee'd in the trays, always hid at the back of the toilet cistern so they looked like one large ball of fluff with 6 eyes glaring at me and they always ate their food.  After 1 week I managed to secure them in the barn and I used to go in twice a day and they would be glaring at me from various peculiar places around the barn including on the top, god know how they got up there!  I went in on New Years day 2008 and they had all gone and escaped.....
I probably didn't really see any of them for about 6 months, but I religiously put the food in the barn twice a day, everyday and it would disappear.  I assumed it was them.  Then slowly but surely I started seeing glimpses of 2 of them for about another year.  I assumed one had just disappeared off somewhere else (this turned out to be little bogs). 
Then all of a sudden there were 3 again!  Eventually to be called Little Bogs, Sticky Out Tongue (SOT) Bogs and Daddy Bogs (had no idea if he was even male)

As time passed they got braver and braver till eventually they would all be hanging around in the barn at feeding time.  Especially SOT who used to really try and interact with me, almost come over when called and look at me reasonably intelligently when I used to chat away to her.  Both her and Little Bogs would follow me.  Eventually they would be waiting at the back door for me each morning and would come in the house.  Both would come in if you left the back door open and investigate.  Quite happily sit in the kitchen whilst I was cooking, especially for a roast dinner.  Daddy bogs though if I'm honest until very recently stayed firmly in the barn and wouldn't really have an awful lot to do with the other two.  For about the last 4/5 years you couldn't really look out of the window and not see the two cats head butting each other or sunbathing somewhere.  They were absolutely inseparable

Little Bogs (the most Bogeyed of the Bogeyes).  I would say ever so slightly brain damaged.  Bless her.  We have even seen her practising to pounce on a bird and jump 45 degrees in the wrong direction.  Absolutely hilarious.

Sticky Out Tongue Bogs (My Mate)  Poor SOT only had a few teeth, so eventually would dribble and I would have to chop food up small.  But would quite happily polish off a curry or a chili.the hotter the better I think!

Cats and Ducks.... Obviously

Its a strange things when you make friends with a feral cat.  Quite humbling.  They literally would sit out with us all day and night if we were in the garden and it wasn't about the food.  They just liked being with us.  But... you couldn't touch them.  They just didn't get it.

It is at this point I started to see a change in David about the Bogeyes (who claimed to dislike and be allergic).  I often heard him chatting away to them in the morning at the back door and I would wryly laugh to myself and could even be relied upon to feed them!  This was a real breakthrough as the animals are very much my domain.  Even to the point that if I went away and David was at home I would have to pay someone to do horses and cats.

By about 2010 SOT Bogs used to look quite poor by the winter, so I purchased a heated bed for the barn that used to be on a timer overnight.  They all used to snuggle in and every winter I would nurse SOT through it with vitamins and Tuna.  Every year she pull through and all would be fine.

It is tricky with the feral if they get ill, there is pretty much nothing you can do.  I did speak to a few people about catching them if they looked poorly but the general consensus is that you only get them once as they don't trust you again.  So it needs to be worth it!  So I decided at some point to feed them the best I could, to hopefully alleviate any illness in the first place and give them the occasional wormer/flea tables in a bit of pate that they would like off my finger.  How many feral cats do you know that get Iams and Felix as Good as It Gets food!!!

2 weeks ago, SOT started sleeping in the stables . By now I think the ear mites had done about as much damage as they could (can only be got rid of by spot-on treatment which was a complete no go) and was completely deaf.  But bless her she used to appear and look at me with her intelligent little face.  Someone once said she looked a bit like a monkey.  There was defo something there that made her look different.  I put a bed in there for her and after a day or two she stopped coming for dinner, so used to take it to her.  Funnily enough, Daddy bogs was normally with her keeping her warm.  By the Friday she stopped eating the food and drinking.  I managed to entice her with a tin of sardines, which she ate and I saw her on Saturday in the garden.  So again not overely concerned as we had been here before.  On Sunday she wasnt really having any of it and had moved to the heated bed in the barn.  Not to be enticed with Sardines. Monday again, she wouldnt eat and was starting to look terrible.  More importantly she wouldnt drink, I tried rubbing her mouth with milk (which she adored).  The fact that I say I rubbed her mouth with water/milk says it all.  This is the first time I had touched her. Not looking good.  On Tuesday morning at 5.30am as I sat there stroking her and trying to do some Reiki I made the decision to phone the vet and have her put down.  I knew in my heart, her time had come. They say you always know.  So phoned the vet at work, they did suggest I bring her to the surgery but I wasn't going to do that to her.  Back home I went.  By the time I got on the Park and Ride bus, I was in floods of tears (looking good) and was immensly touched that David had too come home.  Catherine the vet from Blaircourt was fabulous and really sweet.  It was definately her time to go and to be honest would probably have died very shortly anyway. 

Little Bogs seems ok at the moment but meows at me a lot.  Daddy Bogs is always about and hope he looks after her.

Sticky Out Tongue Bogs, I miss you and still look for you everynight x  Paw Prints on my heart

Peanut Butter Truffle Cookies

Seriously these are amazing!!!  a faff but amazing, you must make!!!!

http://www.icedjems.com/2013/11/peanut-butter-truffle-cookies/

2nd Ashen Weekend for Eager

So spent the weekend at Becky's.  This will be Eager's 2nd two day course.
Day 1 - Bit of a strange one for me.  I had the last lesson which I never normally do.  Half the learning comes from watching everyone else so I think it threw me off kilter a bit.  To much to do at home around the yard meant I didn't turn up until midday.  By the time I'd unloaded, had a chat with Marian, wandered out to watch the riding (bit pointless when brain still driving) I was tacking up and riding.
Started by mentioning my absolute paranoia of wonkiness.  Marian had spotted the week before that to keep me looking less wonky I needed to put my left thigh more on and try and drop my hip.  All stuff Becky had mentioned before so resonated.  I had worked on in this my one riding session all week (the guilt).  Basically I need to get the left side of my body working.  It just drifts along for the ride.  So as I ride I look a bit wafty around the middle of the left and Eager feels like she has less rib and back on the left (colluding in our one sidedness) so to remedy this I need to keep my left thigh on, so I don't see the patches on my breeches (if I look down I can't see them on the right), feel like I am sliding my left hip away from my ribs and also but some stuffing in that space.  Strangely I do find this much easier to do in trot than walk.
So as is generally the way, with that problem sorted (well not sorted, but with a plan to rectify) we then decided to work on Eager going along with her head in the air.  Had a giggle about how she had made me look a total fool the week before at my local jumping lesson with Jonathan.  I had explained to him that by me lifting my hands up she would lower her head.  She then proceeded to totally ignore me for the next hour anytime we went faster than walk! The out persisting didn't work in this instance!
Becky decided that what would work is flexing the poll.  So we started in halt by lifting the inside hand with an outwards flexion of the hand.  Hold until she flexes the poll and release.  This worked in walk and trot and by the session was looking like she does below.  (awwwwww).
All this whilst keeping the left thigh in, sliding of the hip, stuffing the side and pulling her left back muscle over across her back (in my mind) to give me something to sit on.  Simples!

Day 2 - Managed to arrive at 10 and watch a few sessions.  It had both a positive and negative effect.  Positive in that I get to see everyone else and how they are getting on.  A real joy to watch Alan and Maddie.  But something about Spot started to really make me think about Zulu.  Ended up feeling quite sad and maybe a little jealous that after all the hard work, I was starting over again.  But I think just sad was the over riding emotion, then guilty that here I was getting on the lovely Eager and all I could think about was Zulu....

Brain clear and off I again. She and I appeared to have done our overnight processing, body felt less awkward but still conscious that I needed to think about it and she was reacting well to the poll flexions and her head was coming down nicely. Clearly this isn't enough so I thought we would have a play on shoulder in. Right rein she made a few really good attempts and could loosely be described as shoulder in (work in progress). But I know shoulder in on the right is just easy for me it just happens everywhere in my body for it to work.  Left rein.... Nope.  For me it just goes against every thing in my body to do it, so every move is a conscious effort for my body to look left. Agh not only do I feel awkward, but she wouldn't play ball at all either.   So, lets try counter shoulder in.  This is how I taught her she could bend without turning.  I think eventually, we had slight attempt or maybe a step.  But still difficult.  She doesn't want to put any weight on her right shoulder, only her left (hence Jean advising It was much more built up).  But.... In between shoulder in attempts what we are absolutely nailing is a great trot, with neck extension.  A trot that well and truly feels like home for me.  The next exercise that Becky gets me to try and do is to get Eager to use her right shoulder...  The wiggle snake.  Neck reining her in a wiggly snake from left to right, shifting her shoulder weight from left to right.  She struggles again to put weight in the right shoulder.  So try to make it easier by making the right the fence line (where they like to be).  Bingo!
I then floss off on my fabulous trot and ask her to canter on both reins for small circuit of canter on each rein.  Woohoo we do it right first time.  Only the 2nd time I have asked for canter in her new position of holding her own body.  It definitely, without doubt comes from the neck extension.  The session finishes on a good note :-)
 

So things to work on: 
 

Left leg on (so pads disappear) stuff left side and ease hip down.

Poll flexion to get head down and also action reaction. Through all paces and transitions.

Shoulder in left. Doesn't want to put weight on right shoulder. So try do counter shoulder in on right rein. Whilst doing poll flexions. 

Wiggle snake on left rein to get her to use right shoulder by going onto the track by neck reining.  So to get go let move both hands and weight to the left.

Keep pace in neck extension

The whole session left me feeling a bit numb. this happens, its like brain overload.  Not quite overload but you just need time to process, get your muscles to remember what you worked on.  Also it's emotional.  Not sure why.  Maybe it's a release or the relief you have found a solution.  We all get it a Ashen at some point and we all understand.  I have shed more tears in front of Becky than anyone in the last 10 years.  I wouldn't say it was for the sympathy....  But it is for the empathy.  Everyone their just gets it.  The bond with our horses is so strong, we devote so much to them.  Time, money and our hearts.   This by all accounts is a 'riding lesson'!  This 'lesson' can last well into the night and poor David can jut about get two words from me.  After 15 years... He too is getting it. 

The people in the horsey journey so far

Firstly, I really should mention my husband. David. To which not much of what has happened would have been possible without him.  Like all my big boys,the journey has not been smooth.....  But he loves me and he's almost learning the unconditional bit, which if I'm honest I've had for him since the start.  Now, in his life he is first and foremost an athlete. At 51 he is so supremely fit and has a self discipline I can only look at from afar and be in awe of.  That's not to say I want it....  Just sometimes it would come in handy.  All for me, he lives in what he knows as a shithole, but for me is 12 acres of happiness (aka hard work).

My mum and dad.....  Well lets face it, they both made me who I am today.  I like to think I'm more dad like.  But in my heart I know I'm a pretty even mix of them both.  With my dad though its just easier and less issues.  He left all his issues behind over 20 years ago when he left my mum and moved to Portugal with Marion. Mum has been less lucky in love, back to those issues.....

As this is meant be a horsey thing... And to be honest even if it wasn't the next most influential person on my life is probably the guru that is Becky Chapman.  I'm not entirely sure where I would be in my horsey life without her.... But sure as hell wouldn't be where I am now and I can't even imagine what would have happened with Zulu and I. I have been thumbing a lift on the ride with Becky now for about 10 years.... It's been eventful, painful and sometimes stressful but mainly just fucking wonderful.  For me what this woman cannot figure out about bodies both human and equine and how to get the best out of them together, quite honestly for me isn't worth knowing.  I trust her.... Which for me is everything and very rare.  Funnily enough I'm not the easiest person to teach!

My friends.... my family.  I have my core girlfriends that I have literally known all of my life (mainly non horsey).  But, I am still meeting and making friends with some of the most amazing women!!  Truly blessed (and I do like to think down to my exceptional judgement) You are my back up and you know who you are.

Me and the pony gang

So for a few years now it has occured to me that my life is so fasinating that people should need to hear about its.... or B......  Failing that I loved writing a diary and did it from about the age of 13 to 18 (which was about the time I started cheating on my then boyfriend and was so paranoid about him finding it and couldn't see the point in lying to it.  So stopped)  Unfortunately, it also means that some of my most hilarious stories which probably happened 22 to 28 go unwritten and mostly un-remembered.  Which is a shame.  Because I have had more moments than most in my life where you literally wouldnt believe it if it was in a book!!

Also I have the other great passion of my life...  the horses.  So hopefully, rather than regalling you with interesting facts of my life it will be mostly about the horses.....

I have 4!!!  Yes, I would not have thought that possible either.

First Baby - Conor (Trueheart)

Words that describe Conor.... Big, ginger,  stubborn, clever, fucking hard work and now looking back did me proud.  David purchased me Conor for my 30th. Thinking he was going to be a bit like a set of golf clubs and that he was going to be hidden under the stairs every winter. (Would have knocked the house down).  Wouldn't walk out the yard, wouldn't load, wouldn't go anywhere he didn't want to and would go everywhere he did want to regardless of what was in his way.... His mummy loved him.  Now because his mummy loved him and was equally stubborn and clever. By the time I'd had him 7 years we had successfully hunted, completed a 3 day event and an affiliated pre-novice.  It was on the latter he suddenly stopped jumping half way round after being amazing we eventually discovered he had chronic side bone and arthritis in his foot.  The vet "I don't know how he has ever jumped for you" so it turned out Conor the thug loved me after all....  He was 13.  I was 35 and devastated! Talk about cut off in his prime. 

Second baby - Bessie (Second Chance) Boo
Technically, she isnt mine.... But has been with me for longer than the owners now. She arrived with me in about October 2007 when we moved into Rose Lawn.  She was to be Conor's companion who had retired earlier in the year in preperation for my next Eventer!  Bess is about 27-30 years of age and a lovely, if a little timid mare.  Although I have never ridden her. Her previous owner Danielle took her to great heights and she was your perfect first pony.  I decided Bess had been a first pony too many times and like to think she is happy with me.  She really is no trouble at all and such a contrast to the boys. I love her to bits. 

 

Third baby - The Zulu (Amazulu) 

What can I say..... I went out to get a small eventer Irish sport horse....  I came back with what was to be eventually 18hh of Holsteiner.  Truly Zulu is the love of my life. He taught me patience, how to really ride, how to enjoy jumping at 20ft and that horses can love you back. After 5 years of joy, desperation and again heartbreak Zulu retired at 10 years of age.  It is still quite raw so this description of what can best be described as a passionate love affair (horsey people will get this) may be short.  After years of he is right, oh he isn't, yes he is, no he's not.  It all became clear in April this year when i was told he has arthritis in his neck which was pressing on his spinal chord. Causing grade 2/3 ataxia on back legs and 2 on his front. Whilst this didn't seem to bad, the grading is only out of 5 which means they literally can't get up if they fall down. He doesn't know what he is doing with his legs.  This beautiful soul of a horse has trusted me to place his feet for him for years. Until he decided he couldn't anymore and wouldn't come out of walk with me on his back (he is fine in the field).  He is still here and beautiful and seems very happy in his retirement.  Thankfully.  I still miss the bond of riding him everyday. 

Along came no. Four - Eager B (Eager Empress)

She came and found me literally dragging me out of my despair.  The perfect young horse with enough confidence to love me even knowing I didn't have a lot of space to love back. That confidence in herself convinced me pretty quick that she must be absolutely right, she is amazing! This blog is going to be about her and the trials and tribulations of horse ownership.  She is a 4 year old Dutch Sport horse. I think of her more as a sport horse, as she just isn't like a warmblood.  Also, just loving having a mare.  Her work ethic is superb (much better than mine) which means things seem to take as long as they should do and not 20 times longer.... Patience Obiwan.

 

The Gang